aaaargh
I don't know what's going to happen. And I'm really fucking scared. And I don't want to feel like this at this stage in my life. Things have gone horribly fucking wrong and I don't think I can fix them.
Poetry, Prose, Photography, and other mild diversions unsuited to the real world. Here I am, typing away. Come and join me, come and read the things I scrawl. Leave the spidery text of the endless internet for the relative safety of airspaced. Please leave comments, anonymously if you like. I put these here not only so they can be enjoyed (hopefully), but to get feedback. Thanks. ©2004. All Rights Reserved.
I don't know what's going to happen. And I'm really fucking scared. And I don't want to feel like this at this stage in my life. Things have gone horribly fucking wrong and I don't think I can fix them.
Once there was a boy. An ordinary boy. Like you, perhaps, if you are one. Or like that one you know. That strange one, who keeps to himself.
He would run until he didn’t know where he was anymore and just keep running until he found himself back in bed, a boy again, at the start of another day.
One night the boy climbed out of his window but he didn’t become a wolf. Instead the wolf he usually became was standing next to him.
He wasn’t very afraid. He knew this wolf very well. After all, he was this wolf half the time. “Hello”, he said.
This was a little silly, because wolves don’t understand words. But the wolf cocked its head slightly, which sort of meant the same thing as saying “hello” back.
The wolf began to trot off a little distance, and stopped and looked back at the boy as if to say “are you coming?”.
The boy looked up at his open window, down at his pyjamas, and decided to follow.
Rather than go out onto the hills, the wolf led the boy a different way, because this night was different from the others. He took him into a dark wood.
A little afraid, the boy followed, trying to tread exactly where the wolf tread. The wolf turned back every once in a while, to make sure he did not get too far ahead.
Eventually they came out into a clearing. Here the wolf sat down and waited for the boy to catch up.
The moon was high above them, and the sky was full of stars – more than the boy had ever seen, except with his wolf eyes.
He looked down at the wolf, and the wolf looked sad. It’s a little hard to say how it looked sad, but the boy could see in its eyes that it was.
“Don’t be sad, wolf” he said, gently stroking its muzzle. But the wolf couldn’t help it.
“Just look at all those stars” said the boy, pointing out all the hundreds his eyes had never seen before.
But when the boy looked down again, he was alone in the woods. The wolf was gone.
The boy was scared. “Wolf!” he called out, quietly. But the wolf did not return.
Taking a few deep breaths, the boy decided to make his own way home. The wolf could find its way here, and he was the wolf, so he could find his way home. It would be easy.
He turned around and set out into the woods. He couldn’t find a path, but he made his way through the trees. Every now and then a twig scratched his face, or his arms, but he kept going.
Eventually he came out onto the hills where he had run as a wolf, but he was exhausted, and he could not run tonight.
He turned towards home, and walked with his head down all the way back.
Eventually he climbed back into his own window, into his own room and lay down in his own bed. “I did it”, he thought to himself. “I hope the wolf is alright”.
The next night he was too tired to climb out of his window, still exhausted from his long night in the woods.
The night after that he felt angry at the wolf for leaving him there alone in the woods, and decided not to climb out of his window to teach the wolf a lesson.
But the night after that he remembered that the wolf had looked sad before it left him. The boy realised the wolf had not wanted to go.
He climbed out of his window and went to look for the wolf. He went to the dark woods first, although they frightened him a little, but he could not find the wolf there.
Next he went out onto the grassy hills where he knew the wolf loved to run. But he could not see the wolf in the bright moonlight.
“Where can he have gone?” thought the boy. Just then he heard a strange sound come across the hills, a faint echoing cry.
It was the wolf. He heard the wolf howl, and the howl was the saddest sound he had ever heard.
He felt sorry for his wolf, but he realised that the wolf could not come back. “Goodbye Wolf” he shouted, and the sound echoed across the hills into silence.
And, sadly, he made his way home.
Over the next months he forgot the wolf, and carried on with his life as boys tend to.
But the wolf never forgot the boy.
It’s that moment – that jarring, fatal moment when you realise you’ve slipped, that the noises you’re hearing outside your room aren’t really part of life, part of your everyday experience. When the strange messages flashing up on your computer say things they couldn’t possibly say. When the sun comes up alongside the moon, but it stays dark outside. The moments when you begin to realise you’ve slipped into a dream.
Sometimes it’s swift, and you’ll simply realise that you’re seeing impossible things. Other times it’s slow and laborious, as you waste years, lives, millennia of dream time to fear and doubt. You act like an idiot, when instead of soaring through the nearest cloud you sit and debate the implications of misjudging your flight plan. YOU ARE DREAMING, you think, BUT THAT’S NO REASON NOT TO BE CAREFUL! It is. Be carefree for a few moments in your night.
I am working on prolonging my dreams for weeks at the moment. At first I was content just to fly, or to make love to a different woman each night in my dream, or simply to observe, not allowing myself to become involved as my subconscious mind wheeled around me. The feeling of power is immense. In your own mind, you are God. You are the only God which has ever wielded power there.
Just so I can record it this time
It’s not fine
It’s just something I said to relent
Four parts
Four facets of myself I present
Four blinding lights
Four more towers on the skyline.
A word into your ear to forget
You don’t hear
The empty notes will fall down the steps
Four steps
Four inches out a means to express
Four years
Four instances I live to regret.
The city docks are underwater
My sweet love
He walks in, she’s awake
Breath of fortune, black lake
We sit, dreaming dreams
The sun shines in, without the void of fear
I’ve been trapped here now
Yellow eyes nestle low;
Going out to meet morning half-way,
Not a stranger by birth,
She moved left and right, arms up higher, higher, spreading herself out wider under the green sheets, feeling light flooding and flowing over her through their thin gauze. Summer was in the air, the sun blew open the curtains and spread the flowers out in the garden. Voices drifted past, laughter and smiles wafting through the room. Time froze and melted intermittently, building and smashing the days as a smile fell across her face. Great tides of colour washed into the room and left.
She came into being
The night drifted across a frozen landscape of motion. Stark, burning lights icily glazed the world into lines, and dusty clouds breathed past the moon in thick, pallid gusts. Beneath, a city found itself barren. Few now remembered it’s more pleasant days, and fewer still its pleasant nights. Safety and caution replaced cooperation and companionship, security and providence replaced labour and enjoyment. The sensuous had long since blown away, leaving only dull, thick sounds, soulless music of machines and the spiritless rattle of old, abandoned schools.
Winter, you can move through me
“I didn’t mean for it to be like this”, said Gia. “Sometimes these things just fall from me like leaves in autumn, they spill and gush until the overflow and crash around my feet...”
When I fall asleep I shall dream only of you, without anything else to think of.
Everyone else, consult your routines
It’s not too far from here
Round the headland
When I become older than you
The day is so long, at the end
I heard the other day
Still, without weight you drift
The wind laps and crashes against your walls
She moves in silence
When you came to me it was easy to see
When the sun comes out
Last night I wrote some songs.. I just scribbled down a few titles and then wrote a song for each of them. Please let me know what you think of their lyrics. I'm not very pleased with some of them but have been told to put them all up to see what people think.. So here goes.
If I came to you tonight and tapped at your window
I say "I'm only human" as if it's an excuse
I was a fool, a quiet fool
Turn your back on me, my friend
I've been told it's only human
When we dropped it was like seretonin being pumped through me
When the world is tied around us
Desolate, the horizon is void
Either I meant to come here or I just forgot
Just take it all back up
The sound of marching feet
Keep pushing, through the heartbeats
Eyes closed and soul descends
You came back to me
Winding down, wound around the cord
When I was young I used to want to be
Strings for my bed
Exceptional circumstances lead me to the edge of the platform
Into the dark you formed around me
Remembering the past is nothing more to us now
Forgotten flower
Peace, asleep and dreaming
Looking me in the eye
The warring world is shocking me
Every world is a division
It's only you against me now
Overarching fingers,
When I got out of the house today
Why did you think I was trying to leave?
Fallen from your body, they were
The ghosts still walk the land
The songs I dream of writing
A brazen coin tucked deep between
It didn't make sense, those things I saw
Bent trees without leaves
Fall, white snow, at my feet
This isn’t light. Half-light, glowing
Beneath the waves, the waves you watched me
It spirals down, and around, and down, and around
Keep on walking, go on
The sun is out again, though the leaves
We have forgotten the things that we used to do
I was walking up and down the gravel outside the park
When I furst unfurled my eyes
Never edit. Never draft. Never care.
I will fly upon your shoulders
Ships sailing on a pure white sea
“Father father where are you going?
I spend my days alone, these days
There is a sound across the mist
The year is almost over, dear friend
It peels back
You are perched above me, looking around
The car radio is singing to me
The candle-lit town was poised below, fully expecting the oncoming slaughter. Fathers held mothers, mothers watched sleeping children have the pleasant dreams the adults had lost many months before. The sun grew dim in the sky these days – even light was reticent on those who were so obviously damned.
I am waiting
The winds picked up
Little moth
There’s a place in our town where the children won’t play
They grap me with their tiny hands
The night is long without you by my side
Heavenly father, where is your voice?
Walking home one night. Any night. This night. I am walking home. The moon is big. Very big. Bigger than I’ve ever seen. It’s half the size of the sky. I can make out every crater, every dip and every peak. The town is dark. Very dark. There isn’t a light in the street. The moon is so big I can see exactly where I’m going. The walls and the pavement are blue in the silver light. They are shiny, it’s been raining tonight and they’re wet. The air tastes of rain. It’s so dark, except for the shining surfaces. Each one moves as I walk past. I turn down a familiar street. Any street. The glints on the walls are all moving with me. A thousand tiny lights, all moving smoothly with me. Each one changing as I change. It’s beautiful, and I feel part of something amazing.
In my hometown
When I'm coming home I'm being watched
The evening has come
Some things could not be changed
The water was already at his ankles. By the dim red light form the warning indicator on the dashboard he could see that his shirt was stained. It felt warm. His heart was in his mouth as he stretched his limbs around the twisted metal that was blocking his view. He followed it round, his fingers crawling along his shirt to the spot he… wait… he couldn’t go further. The metal… the metal had hit him. It must’ve been pressed pretty tight against his skin, which is funny, because he hadn’t felt it punch him. And it must’ve been some punch! Look at the state of his car! His fingers slid up and down the edge of the bent metal as he contemplated insurance claims, time off work… water was at his knees… where was he? He was the right way up, he was sure of that. Something had been lying in the road, something he hadn’t seen, obviously. Why hadn’t he seen it?! He was a good driver. His fingers were warm. Odd that he should be warn on a cold night like this. He brought them painfully back round to his face. They looked dark, but then oil and all sorts must be leaking. He wondered when another car would come… water round waist… and phone the police. The police? Why would he need the police?! Ambulance more like… he was convinced he had broken something. Most of his lack of movement would be from shock, obviously, but he would need to be careful. Maybe even the fire department, to cut him out. The metal was certainly holding him tight, and as he struggled he winced air out through his nose in an odd way. He tried to look down again, forcing his chin into his neck as much as he could (it aches, it aches!)… water reaching the metal – it stings! I must be pretty sore! He could hardly tell where the metal ended and he began! It almost looked like it had gone right through his shirt, right into him! Ha ha! He’d have some good bruises to show from that one! His other arm was trapped behind him, and he wriggled the fingers a bit. They had pins and needles, and it wasn’t particularly pleasant. Man, his chest did sting. The water was there, it must be irritating the skin. That must be it. Unless… no. That’s stupid. He wasn’t going that fast. I mean, it could have gone in… but his back stung too, why did his back sting like his front? He tried to lean back, but the chair wasn’t there… he winced again... that wasn’t nice. He looked around, and felt dazed. He was giddy, and there where huge white spots covering his vision. His eyes closed. This wasn’t too good, he thought. He would wait for the ambulance. He would wait here, not moving anymore. It would be better if he just lay still. Water at his neck… so tired, they would come for him. Water at his chin… water at his mouth… water at his nose… his eyes… the top of his head… the headlights lit his way as he sank to the depths, making dim circles in the water before they flickered and dimmed.